


Crimson Stars

by BlondykeBar



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 19th Century, As in he doesn't have his real left one, Ass backwards vampire lovin', Avengers - Freeform, Blood, Bucky shall be missing the arm, Homosexual, Human!Steve, Humor, Little Steve being a sass muffin, Loki cameo, M/M, METAL ARM, Male on Male, OC charcacters, Pre-Serum, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Romance, Roses, Skinny!Steve, To help the plot along, Vampire hunter!Avengers, Vampire!Avengers, Vampire!Bucky, Vampires, Victorian, Werewolves, funny at times, normal stuff, villain!Avengers, winter soldier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-10 14:39:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3294098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlondykeBar/pseuds/BlondykeBar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steven Rogers remembers very little about his only childhood friend, Bucky, but when he shows up on Steven's doorstep 17 years later, he finds that there's more to his lucky encounter with Bucky than he thought. Steven tries his best to balance his affections for Bucky, the pressure of being Bucky's chosen life partner, and being chased down by a league of London vampires who want Bucky dead... Vampires, Werewolves, and Humans-- Oh, My!</p><p>((5/30/2016: Thought I was dead didn't you? Surprise~ Figured I would announce my plan to restart this fic... Starting from ground zero. Enjoy the current work, as I intend to leave it as it is, but I will link my second Crimson Stars to this one when I start publishing the new versions chapters. I don't intend to make excuses, but thank you all who have been enjoying this piece in my absence, and those who still have it bookmarked. <3))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“ _Where did you go, Steven?”_

“ _In the forest...” The boy looked down at his hands. Caked in dirt and traces of blood that his worried mother wouldn't see._

“ _The forest? What were you doing in there?”_

“ _I was looking for something... I was looking for my friend.” He shook his ratty blonde hair from his face to look up at the woman kneeling at his side._

“ _Your friend?”_

“ _He doesn't go to school with me, but I've seen him other places...” Steven dared not say where. He never met his only friend in what people would consider normal situations._

“ _Why are you so filthy, Steven?”_

“ _I was walking, but I lost my way... I thought I heard wolves, so I ran from the trail.” He remained calm and quiet, not wanting to scare his mother anymore than he was going to._

“ _Wolves!? Did they find you?”_

“ _Yes. They chased me and I fell down... But it was okay, because Bucky saved me... He always does.” His eyes fixed on the woods outside his bedroom window, silently searching for movement within the silhouettes of the trees._

“ _But how did-- I mean, you--- Just...” Sarah shook her head and pulled her son into her arms and kissing his head. “It doesn't matter. I'm glad you're safe. Now, let's get you cleaned up and then straight to bed.”_

“ _He always does...” Steve said under his breath, so his mother won't hear. “Because I'm his---”_

 

 

 

“ _Steve? Stevie!” A voice called from outside Steven's window, trying to wake the boy. Not that it mattered, because Steve was still very awake._

_Steven walked to the window and pulled into open. “Shhh. Mama might hear you.”_

“ _Whoops! Sorry...” The young boy on the ground laughed quietly, looking up at Steven with bright blue eyes. “Hey, can I come in? Just for a little bit?”_

_Steven knew that meant he wanted to stay the night, but that didn't matter to him. Bucky was his only friend, and he certainly owed the boy for saving his life._

“ _Okay. Hurry up and get in here. It's cold and I don't have any medicine for my lungs right now.”_

_In a flash, Bucky was up the wall of the house, through the window, and in Steven's bed. “Why do you have to take medicine?”_

_Steve pulled his window shut quietly and crawled into bed next to Bucky, who pulled him closer._

“ _It's so I can breathe,” Steve yawned. “If I don't take it when I stop breathing, I'll die.”_

_Bucky frowned. “That's not good. We can't have you dying now. You're only eight...”_

_Steven laughed and snuggled closer to Bucky. “I'll be fine... I always am.”_

“ _Yeah, thanks to me.”_

“ _Yeah... Thanks to you.” Steve breathed Bucky in and smiled. “Thank you.”_

“ _Don't mention it. I can't let you die, you know.”_

“ _Why?”_

“ _Because, silly. I told you that you're my---”_

 

 

 

_Bucky leaped and bounded over fence after fence, around tree after tree. Going as fast as his legs would carry him. He cursed himself for keeping up appearances and refusing to show his true age, even if it meant getting to the Rogers' house in more time than necessary with his twelve year-old legs._

_When he arrived, the house was exactly as the villagers said. Abandoned. Bucky's stomach sank as he walked through the grass and straight up to the door. He looked inside, stricken by the vast emptiness of the once full and inviting house. He ran around the outside and scaled up to see into Steven's window. All dark, all empty..._

_Bucky dropped to the ground and stood at his full height of 6 feet and two and a half inches. He drew his coat sleeve over his left arm and slid his hands into his pockets, staring up at the house in confusion._

_Bucky glanced at the road in time to see a villager passing by on horseback._

“ _Excuse me!” Bucky called, managing to catch the attention of the stranger._

“ _Good morning sir.” The man tipped his hat. “What can I do for you?”_

“ _Did you know the people who lived in this house? Sarah Rogers, and her little boy, Steven?”_

“ _Ah yes,” the man looked up to the house with a sorrowful expression. “Sarah, the poor woman, was sick for a long time and just passed a few weeks ago... I heard the boy went into the city to continue his schooling.”_

_Bucky looked back at the house, running a hand through his shoulder-length curls. “I see...”_

“ _Were you a friend of Sarah's?” The man asked curiously, preparing his horse to continue the ride into the village._

“ _No. I was a friend of her son's.”_

_The man looked Bucky up and down in confusion. “Really?”_

_Bucky frowned turning away from the house. “Yes. He's my---”_

 

 

 

 

“Chosen one?”

“Yes. That's what he called me...” Steven glanced down at the tea leaves floating around in the bottom of his cup. He dared not look up at the woman sitting across the room from him, for fear she would see an emotion he dared not elicit.

“What do you think that means?” She prods, giggling lightheartedly and setting herself next to Steven on her parlor seat.

“Oh, I don't know. Like I said, they were just dreams. It likely didn't mean anything at all.” He stood and set his tea back on the tray before gazing out the window onto the street below.

“Come now, you know you can tell me anything, Stevie...” Natasha slid her arms around his tiny waist and nuzzled her cheek into Steven's shoulder. Natasha was about Steven's size, but she was definitely much stronger than he was, and he felt her threaten to squeeze the answered out of him. Gorgeous and delicate as she appeared to be, she had a very unladylike way of getting what she wanted.

“I think... It meant he wanted to be with me forever...” Steven watched the people coming and going on the sidewalks as he spoke. “Silly as that sounds... Every time I heard it--- In my dreams, I mean-- It felt honest... Even though I was very young in all the dreams, it felt like the only thing I could trust was true.” Steven frowned and turned from the window. “I should really go, Natasha. It's getting late, and I got an idea for a painting earlier today that I wanted to get started on tonight.”

Natasha sighed and pulled away, smoothing the skirt of her dress. “Alright, Mio Piccolo Michelangelo,” she smiled and straightened his collar. “I suppose I'll just have to get the rest out of you next Tuesday.”

“Yeah...” Steven said, heading for the door.

Natasha blocked his way to the door and pouted, “You don't plan to attend, do you?”

“I said I'd think about it.”

“Well think harder! Honestly, a ball's the perfect way to meet more people, and as an artist, you need those connections! Besides, you might be able to find a REAL chosen one that night.” She winks, hoping to ignite some kind of new found interest in Steven.

He sighs, and smiles back. “You're right. I will do my absolute best to come.”

“Promise me!”

“I promise, my lady.” Steven bowed his head.

“OH NO NO NO! NONE OF THAT LADY NATASHA STUFF! Out before I THROW you out!” She laughed and opened the door, sending Steven off.

 

Steven hated the dark. Even though the sun had just set, and there were still plenty of people on the streets, he was terrified of the night. Likely an old anxiety from living in the small towns outside of London, but ever since he had moved away from the dense forests and the kind people that lived within them, he felt vulnerable and completely alone. He told himself over and over that as an artist this was the best place to be, and with Natasha and her family paying for his schooling and art supplies he really didn't have room to complain... But every now and then, he thinks about home. He thinks about the peaceful village the bordered the forest, the dark woods full of countless dangers, the warm embrace of his mother--

Steve shakes his head to keep from reeling. He doesn't like thinking about what he left behind, or rather, WHO he left behind. The topic continues to come up nonetheless. He foolishly brought it up to Natasha who tried to squeeze every last bit of it out of him, likely as gossip fuel. Why she would gossip about the poverty stricken artist her family cares for, he had no idea, but she had always been fascinated with stories from his life outside of London. Ever since he was 17 he had been telling her the same stories, and even now at 25, he would tell her about his “dreams” of a boy named Bucky who would come to his window at night, and rescue him from his brainless adventures through the woods.

Steven drew his coat tightly around himself and glanced up briefly at the street signs. He was terribly worried about getting lost, but even more worried about appearing lost. Being as small as Steve was and as weak as Steve was, he couldn't afford to attract the attention of strangers looking to take his belongings or pick a fight. He weaved through the streets and made it back to his own apartment building. As he fiddled with his keys, he happened to notice a man stooped over the occupants board, which put him in the way of the door.

Steven looked around and found that he was entirely alone aside from the man, which made him even more uncomfortable. Steven paced a little, hoping the man would leave, but ultimately gave up and climbed the steps to help him after a few minutes.

“Excuse me, sir?” Steven quietly asked.

The man stood up straight, making Steven's heart jump to his throat when he realized how tall the man was. He turned around and blinked down at Steven with unblinking bright blue eyes. “Yes?”

“Umm,” Steven avoided eye contact and tried to shrink as much as possible. “Can I help you find someone who lives here?”

“Lives here...” The man repeated. “What's you're name?”

Now Steven was a little scared, but he tried not to look it. A man his age shouldn't be scared of anything... Or at least that's what Natasha would tell him when he'd see a spider or hear a door slam.

“Steven...” He said quietly before clearing his throat and trying again. “Steven Rogers, sir. And you are...?”

The man got down on one knee to be eye level with Steven, who was now red in the cheeks as his heart raced. He willed himself to look the man in the eye, and was only a little relieved to note that the man looked not much older than him. He smiled a little nervously and stepped back towards the door a little.

“Rogers.” The man repeated again. His face immediately brightened and he pulled his hair back so that Steven could see him in his entirety. “It's me.”

“I-It is?” Steven asked, backing up towards the door.

The man frowned and stood up, stepping closer. “Really? Got you out of all those scrapes in the woods back home, and this is my thanks?” He snorted and looked at Steve expectantly.

“Oh my god,” Steve covered his mouth. “Oh my god, you're real.”

The man cocked an eyebrow and smirked, “Certainly not was I was expecting for our first reunion in...” The man began counting on his fingers, but rolled his eyes and gave up. “Years.”

Steven bit his lip and inched just a little closer, “... Bucky?”

Bucky looked down and him and smiled. “That's more like it, Stevie.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

“But you were-- You had--- You---” Steven paced back and forth on the steps, trying to keep his breathing under control. “It's impossible for you to exist! You lived in those woods! You only came to me at night! You could talk to wolves, and--- and you were stronger than them. There's--”

Steven froze and gripped at his chest, fearing that his lungs were going to seize. Bucky put his hands worriedly on Steven's shoulders and searched his eyes for panic. “Stevie?”

Steven stared blankly back at Bucky before batting his hands away. “I'm fine! I'm fine... And don't call me that. You don't know me...”

“Oh sure,” Bucky crossed his arms. “One minute it's 'Oh Bucky! It's been so long!' Now you're pretending you don't know me from Adam. What's the matter?”

Steven shook his head and turned to face the door, pulling his keys again and fiddling with them to get the door to open. “Good night---” Steven stopped short when he felt Bucky looming over him. He glanced back and caught a glimpse of his face. No longer composed and laced with a devilish smirk. Bucky pressed Steven into the door and opened his mouth, showing off what Steven could have sworn were the longest canines he had seen in his life. Bucky pulled the collar of Steven's shirt to one side and leaned in closer. Steven immediately panicked and cried out. He twisted the key in the lock, causing the door to push open and throwing him inside. He fell to the floor and shielded himself from what he thought was his impending doom. After a long silence, Steven worked up the courage to look up, expecting to see steely blue eyes watching him with cruel amusement... But was surprised to find Bucky hadn't moved from the doorway. He stood helplessly outside, looking at the door frame.

“Can I come in?”

Steven was so baffled, he could barely keep his composure. “What!?”

“I want to come in, so I'm asking to come in...” Bucky offered a small smile that sheepishly vanished. Steven narrowed his eyes at Bucky and frowned. “You... Can't come in?”

“Unless you tell me I can.”

Steven shook his head and stood, brushing his overcoat off. He paced inside the door, watching Bucky carefully in case this was just some cruel trick to make Steven out to be a fool. “How do you know me?” Steven started. Since Bucky seemed to be in no mood to leave, he figured some answers were in order.

“I told you,” Bucky pulled his left sleeve down more. “I am the same kid from your childhood. I watched after you in the woods, I came into your room and stayed with you until morning...” He frowned and leaned on the doorway. “Look, just because you're the only one who knew me doesn't mean I was a figment of your imagination. I'm real, Stevie.”

“So then, why did you come to me only at night, or in the forest?”

“Come on,” Bucky rolled his eyes. “What do those things have in common?”

“Well I don't know! Quiet, not very many people, dark---”

“There you go.”

Steven frowned, realizing his childhood friend was rapidly becoming a childhood nightmare. There were so many hints that Bucky wasn't even a real person, but now it seemed Bucky was all too real...

“So let me get this straight. You only lived in the dark, you could talk to animals, you need to be asked inside--” Steven looked up and saw traces of nervousness in Bucky's face. “Let me see your teeth.”

“What?” Bucky feigned confusion and gave him a smirk. “Come on, Stevie--”

“OPEN.” Steven demanded almost too loudly. Bucky sighed and reluctantly opened his mouth widely, revealing two, long fangs. Steven's hand flew to his mouth as he inched closer and inspected them.

“You're kidding me...” He managed to say after a long moment of silence.

Bucky smirked and covered his mouth coyly, “Would I lie to you?”

Steven's mind raced about as quickly as his heart did. “But... But vampires don't...”

“I think this would be easier if you'd let me in...”

 

 

Steven unlocked his apartment door and turned around to whisper sternly, “And NO. BITING. I mean it!”

“Yeah, Yeah. Are you going to let me in or what?”

Steven sighed and opened the door, beckoning Bucky in. “Come on then.” Bucky walked through the door and glanced around in the dark. “Very nice!”

Steven frowned. “You can't even see it...”

“Actually I can... One of those vampire things.” Bucky clicked his fingers and every candle, lamp and lantern immediately lit up. Steven blinked at him and set his keys down before taking his jacket off and heading into the kitchenette. “Care for some tea, or is that not a thing vampires can do?”

“Oh no. I can have tea. That sounds delicious.” Bucky smiled back at him.

“Pity.” Steven mumbled as he put a kettle on to boil. “So, I don't even know where to start with all this... I'm honestly not entirely sure if this is really happening.” Steven slipped down onto his couch and rubbed his temples.

“Well, it is happening. Rest assured. I'm real, and so is everything going on right now. Just ask any question you'd like. I know there's not a whole lot you have to go off of.”

“How did you become a vampire?” The question was so blunt, Steven almost surprised himself by saying it, but stood his ground.

“That. Is a long, LONG story--”

“At this point, I've had a long, LONG day. I really don't care.”

Bucky smirked and sat down across from him on the couch. “About 60 years ago, I was in France, attempting to gather information for our allies against Napoleon. Little bastard thought he had all of Europe wrapped around his finger. So, I was gathering information for Britain and Portugal to make their next move, when I suddenly find myself in a... particularly promiscuous part of town, and figured I'd find myself some company. On my way into a nice little entertainment establishment, I meet this girl who invites me into her apartment for a little fn-- And if you knew anything about me, I'm a real sucker for---”

“Get to the point.” Steven rolled his eyes.

“Anyway. As we're getting... Busy... The girl sits up and bites me. REALLY bites me. I pull away, and I'm bleeding all over the place. I try to pull away from her but she holds me down, and just when I think she's drained me, she sliced open her wrist and pours her blood into my mouth. I swallow, and over the course of the next day, I became... This, I guess.”

Steven blinked back at him is disbelief. “Why?”

Bucky shrugged. “I never got to ask her. The next day I was called back to Britain and didn't have the chance to see her again... But it was different this time. Now I burned in the sunlight, It hurt to touch holy water. It was so new, so scary. I couldn't let anyone see what happened. So I fled the city and spent basically all my time alone in the forests to learn how to control my abilities and urges...”

Steven got up and took the kettle off the heat and prepared two cups. “So you've looked this way for sixty years!?”

“Correct. I've been 27 for decades.”

“How can that be,” Steven cocked an eyebrow, bringing the cups to the coffee table. “Every time you can to me, we were the same age.”

Bucky gave him a coy grin and shrugged, “It'd be a little weird if a toddler befriended a grown man, wouldn't it?”

Steven swallowed and shakily reached for his tea cup, “Why befriend me in the first place?”

“Huh?”

“Why did you even want to be friends? Why wouldn't you leave me alone?” Steven tried his best to make the conversation serious, but judging by Bucky's constant smirking, it was always going to be a joke to him.

“I may be a vampire, but I'm not the devil. If I had left you alone, you would have been wolf chow a long time ago.” Bucky laughed and leaned back, which simultaneously relaxed and unnerved Steven.

“But why? Even after you protected me, you would follow me nearly everywhere I went.”

Bucky was quiet for a long time, as if he finally got a question he didn't know how to answer, “Well... It's a little difficult to explain--”

“And by difficult to explain, you mean creepy.”

“No!... Well kind of,” Bucky's smirk returned with a vengeance, and he hid it in his coat collar. “Shut up.”

“I'm waiting.” Steven said dryly, trying to give the impression that he had the upper hand in the discussion, when really Bucky could be back at his throat in a matter of seconds.

“Well... Okay, do you remember the first time we met?”

“Of course.”

“After you got lost and started wandering through the woods, you passed by me, and didn't even notice. I was surprised to see a little kid like you off alone, so I followed after you. It was a good thing too, because that's about when the local forest's wolf pack caught your scent and came running. I panicked, not knowing what form I should assume, so I settled with your apparent age. After I managed to talk them out of making you their next meal, I picked you up and carried you back to your house.”

Steven felt a blush creep across his face, and did his best to hide it from Bucky. “So that's it? You carried me home once, and now I'm stuck with your forever?”

“In a sense, yes,” Bucky combed his hair back with one hand. “I saw it in your face, and then when I picked you up, I felt it everywhere...” He inched closer, which made Steven push himself into the arm of the couch more. “Felt what?”

“Really? I told you at least three hundred times,” he caught Steven's hand, causing the significantly younger man to jolt. “I felt our connection. You're my chosen one, Stevie.”

He brought Steven's hand up to kiss it, but Steven pulled away before he had the chance. “HOLD ON.”

Bucky blinked at him, completely confused by the refusal.

“Do you really think you can just show back up after seventeen years, and I'll just throw my life aside to fall in head over heels with your undead carcass!?” Steven bit his lip as soon as he finished to keep more from pouring out.

At first Bucky just sort of sat there, but once he processed what had been said, he snorted and threw his head back to laugh, unabashedly showing off his fangs, “You're certainly not the pushover I remember,” he wiped a tear from his eye. “I love it.”

“Oh please!” Steven stood up and started for his room, feeling the blush move down to his chest. It was too much too fast. He just wanted to come home and paint, yet here he was, struggling to remember his only childhood friend and what his friend actually was. He started breathing harder, and immediately turned back around to get to the little brown case on his book shelf. Bucky jumped up off the couch and caught Steven before he could topple over.

“What!? What's wrong?” Bucky glanced around wildly for what Steven was after.

“My kit... It has my medicine.. in it...” Steven forced out and pointed shakily to the case on the shelf. Bucky grabbed the case with one hand while holding Steven with the other.

“Tell me what to do.”

“The shot-- I need that-- shot.” Steven pointed to the syringe, struggling to get his breath. Bucky pulled the syringe out and unbuttoned Steven's shirt quickly. He pulled the shirt off and injected the syringe into Steven's arm, watching him worriedly.

After what seemed like hours, Steven's eyes widened and he took a deep breath. Bucky sighed and pulled him closer. “That was close... I didn't know that you still did that...”

“Yeah,” Steve shook his head and stood up, grabbing his shirt and holding it around himself in embarrassment. “I didn't get any less sick as I grew up, sadly... I think I should go to bed.”

“I think you should let me bite you,” Bucky pulled Steve back into his arms. “It might help.”

“Or it might kill me!” Steven pushed away as much as he could.

“I wouldn't let that happen.”

“Easy for you to say,” Steven looked away, not wanting to seize up again. “You don't have to worry about dying anymore.”

“But I do have to worry about YOU dying... I chose you, so now I'm obligated to take care of you.” He gently turned Steven's face back to him and leaned in close. Steven, expecting to get bitten, pushed frantically at Bucky's chest. Bucky rolled his eyes and kissed him softly, catching him completely off guard. He pulled away after a moment and smirked down at Steven, who lingered even after Bucky left. Steven pulled away in embarrassment and turned to go back into his bedroom. “I'm going to bed.”

“Good! I'll come with.”

“Oh no no no. You stay out here. I don't want to become a midnight snack should you get hungry.”

Bucky frowned and looked around, “I can't stay out here. Too many windows. I'll die come morning.”

Steven helplessly looked at his bed, then back at Bucky.

“If I let you in, you need to promise you won't bite me.”

“I promise.”

“I mean it!”

“So do I!!!” Bucky huffed and crossed his arms. “If I wanted to bite you without your consent, I would have done it five minutes ago while you were gripping your chest and trying to force a breath.”

Steven swallowed and nodded, “Alright. Thank you, by the way.”

Bucky smiled and stalked into the bedroom, immediately locking the windows, pulling the curtains shut, and taking off his clothes. Steven undressed completely and neatly folded his clothes back up before he put them away. He threw on his sleepwear and slid into bed. After Bucky got undressed he jumped into bed and snuggled up to Steven.

“What makes you think you're sleeping with me?”

Bucky frowned, trying to look as pitiful as possible. “I always slept with you when you were younger...”

Steven sighed and closed his eyes, pressing his back against Bucky more. “Fine.”

Bucky made a content sound and wrapped his arms around Steven, kissing his hair.

“I hope you know you're getting away with murder right now.”

Bucky laughed, “Like I haven't before.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Steven slipped into the water with a heavy sigh and got to work scrubbing the paint off his hair and skin. He looked up at the door every few minutes, just in case Bucky would happen to wake up and decide to come in for an easy meal. Steven laughed to himself about the thought, but ultimately decided it highly unlikely that Bucky planned to catch him off guard at this point. Even though Steven was the world's lightest sleeper, he didn't wake up at any time during the night fearing that his life was in danger. He found it baffling that he had only reunited with Bucky for a few short hours before he felt the same trust that had founded their entire relationship when he was a boy. He slept all through the night, and by the time he woke up to leave, Bucky had fallen asleep, which demonstrated his own trust in Steven. Steven couldn't drawn the curtains open and pulled the covers off of Bucky and he would've been a goner. But Steve couldn't imagine himself doing anything like that... Not to Bucky, at least. Sure he was still entirely confused by Bucky's intentions with him, but it didn't change the fact that this was the only person in the world that Steve had put his full trust in at one time. Vampire or not, he owed Bucky that much.  
After he had successfully gotten every last dried chip of paint off himself, Steven drained the tub and dried himself off. The sun was just beginning to set, so he only had a little time left to himself before Bucky would wake up and likely start another round of begging for blood.  
Steven went into his room and blindly felt around for some clothes in the dark of his closet. Once he found something suitable for wearing around the house, he put them on and quickly headed into the kitchen to decide what he should make for supper.  
As he was chopping up vegetables to make a soup, he heard a loud, and extremely dramatic yawn come from his room. After a few moments, Bucky appeared in the doorway, and ever-so slowly peeked his head out to check if the sun had set.  
“It safe,” Steven rolled his eyes. “The days are getting shorter again.” He went back to chopping vegetables and did his best not to look too surprised when Bucky wrapped his arms around Steven's waist and snuggled against him. “I'm making supper, do you mind?”  
“No, go ahead,” Bucky laughed and let go of him after Steven shot him a glare. “I'm actually going to head out.”  
“Are you?”  
“I have to,” Bucky said stretching his arms and cracking his spine in the process. “Somebody won't let me get a drink, and being around your chosen one really takes its toll on a vampire's thirst.”  
“Huh. That sounds like a you problem. Find a different chosen one.”  
Bucky groaned and turned to look at him, “I can't! Once you find your other half, you're locked in for the rest of your life.”  
Steve turned away and continued chopping his vegetables. “I didn't know that...” Bucky watched him for a long time, looking Steven up and down while biting at his bottom lip. He took a half step forward, eyes locking on Steve's neck.  
“By the by, what happened to your arm?” Steven asked, glancing back at Bucky, who was nnow frozen with a dumbfounded expression.  
“Huh?”  
“Your arm. Your left one. What happened?”  
Bucky glanced down and hid his metal hand as well as he could in his other hand. “It, uh... It was an accident. A long time ago. During a war.”  
Steven turned around, seeming genuinely concerned for the first time since he had seen Bucky again. “You didn't say anything about it last night.”  
“That's because I don't like to talk about it... It was an accident... Luckily a friend of mine at the time fixed it up for me.” Bucky glanced up in time to see Steven approach him and offer his hand.  
“May I see?” He asked softly, looking Bucky straight in the eyes. Bucky quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled his left arm out of the sleeve, showing off the entire arm for Steven.  
He reached out and gently ran his fingers over the smooth metal.  
“Amazing,” Steven said, admiring the detailing of the arm. “What's the star for?”  
“Oh. It was my symbol... Like a code. Everything of mine had a dark red star on it somewhere. Including my replacement arm...” He frowned and looked down at his feet. Steven smiled reassuringly at him, and let go of his arm. “You can put your shirt back on.”  
Bucky immediately put his shirt back on as quickly as he had taken it off. “Thanks.”  
“No, thank you,” Steven turned back to work on his soup. “I'm glad you trust me enough to show me... And it doesn't bother me, should that have been your concern.”  
Bucky nodded, “Okay... I uh, I'm gonna go get dressed and find something to eat.”  
“Fine by me-- Oh! And we were invited to a ball happening next week Tuesday. Your envelope is on the coffee table... I'm not to keen on going, but if you want to, I'll come w--”  
“YES. LET'S GO!” Bucky brightened in an instant and grabbed his invitation. He froze for a moment before resuming his path back into the bedroom to gather up his clothes. Once he was out of Steven's sight, he held the envelope closer and breathed in its scent. “Natalia,” he sneered. As he got dressed, he pulled the invitation out to find that it did not bear the name of the invited party, meaning she had no idea who she invited... Yet.  
“That means I should find more appropriate wears, yes?” Bucky asked as he reentered the living room, pulling his overcoat on.  
“Why? You dress just fine.” Steven looked up from the pot he was stirring.  
“Oh, I look fine now,” he smirked and winked at Steven. “But I want to look irresistible for you,” and with that he headed out the door to find his next meal.


	4. Chapter 4

Although Bucky left the apartment around six, he lingered in the general area for another few hours, waiting for Steven to turn out the lights and go to bed. Bucky watched the streets and the people passing by the building, watching to make sure no one he recognized had intentions of going into the apartment. It wouldn't surprise him in the least if the news of his return had spread through the night life of London, which would put Steven at just as much risk as he was. He avoided the city for a lot of reasons, and this was the biggest one. Even after Steven had left for London, Bucky couldn't bring himself to follow. Not until he was stronger. Not until he was as good as they were.

He looked back up at the apartment and saw Steven cross the apartment and turns the lights out. He smiled softly when Steven went to shut the bedroom curtains before turning out the lights. Bucky didn't want Steven to be awake when he came home, because he was never sure how gruesome a hunt would turn out to be, and frightening Steven right now would upset the trust he was trying to build between them.

Bucky breathed in the cold night air, trying to locate his prey. Not very many people out anymore, since most of the shops have closed and most of the people who weren't home were sitting in a bar someplace--- But not all of them. Bucky caught the faint scent of a young woman selling flowers across town, and she was far enough away that he wouldn't be traced back. Bucky shifted into a wolf and slipped silently through the alleyways across London. He watched left and right as he went, every sense alive and observing everything about his surroundings. The sound of men laughing in the bars, the smell of stove fires burning into the night air, nothing escaped him. As the scent of his victim became heavier and heavier, he ducked in between two buildings and resumed his usual form. He listened for anyone else who may be passing the girl by, but it sounded as though she was calling out to no one in particular.

“Fresh cut roses! Reds, Oranges, Whites, and Pinks!” She prattled on in a lonely fashion. When Bucky came around the corner, she excitedly held out her armful of flowers to show them off to him. “Care for any roses, sir?”

Bucky looked them over with mild interest, smiling at the thought of bringing some home with him. “Actually I would.”

“Oh perfect! What color suits you?” She smiled up at him, trying to catch his eye.

Bucky straightened up and locked eyes with her. “I like how vibrant the white and orange are, but I think red suits me the best... What do you think?” The girl just stared back at him with wide eyes. He smirked and looked around to make sure no one had been watching. “That's what I thought.” Bucky took the girl by her free hand and lead her back to the space between the two buildings he had found. She blinked up at him blankly, doing nothing but standing and holding roses.

“I'm sorry,” Bucky said, mostly to himself. “But it's been so long since I hunted another person... You wouldn't believe how much I need this.” He gripped the girl around her waist and bit into her neck with a grotesque ripping sound. She gasped, but didn't move away or cry for help. She just stared up at the night sky, feeling the life draining from her body and being helpless to stop it.

Bucky usually didn't use hypnosis as a means to feed, but having just started drinking from humans again, he figured he'd play it safe for a while. He would have to pick off the weaker, sicker, and, god help him, younger population until he was up to the task of subduing bigger victims.

The girl was barely a mouthful compared to what he was used to, but it was enough to keep himself from attacking Steven, and that was the goal. He loved Steven too much to bite him before he was ready, even if that meant going out every night and completely draining several people.

Bucky gently laid the girl's body down and covered her with her own coat. He licked his lips clean and gently started picking up a small bouquet of roses. Before he could get the number he wanted, he heard a wolf's howl and immediately ran out of the alley. As he made his way back to his side of town, he glanced up to be sure it wasn't a full moon. He was slightly more relieved to find that it wasn't, but continued running, doing his best to listen all around him.

As he rounded the street corner that led to Steven's apartment, he could hear paws scraping the streets and gaining ground on him. Before he got too close to Steven's apartment, he banked down a side street and led his pursuers astray. Bucky pulled out a hair ribbon and tied the roses together before tossing them on top of a nearby awning and assuming his wolf shape once more. He turned around and faced his pursuers, who hadn't expected the chase to be over so quickly. As they skittered to a halt, Bucky flattened his ears and growled lowly at them, earning equally dark threats back. Three wolves growled and gnashed their teeth in front of him, but stopped when the fourth came forward to stand with the rest. He lowered his head and flattened his ears, challenging Bucky. Bucky looked for an escape, anything to keep from getting attacked on his first night back. “So what's the occasion?” He offered lightheartedly, giving up his true appearance and frowning down at the wolves at his feet.

“I thought we made it clear that you're not welcome in this city.” The apparent leader stood up straight and assumed his true appearance. He was clearly a vampire as well, but lacked the height that seemed to come with most.

“And I don't intend to stay, Anthony,” Bucky explained, glaring down at him. “I just came to visit a friend.”

Anthony laughed, stepping closer to Bucky. “Friends? Prehaps you've forgotten who you are, James. We don't have any room for you anymore, so I suggest you pack up your sad little life and go hide in the timber for another thousand years.” Anthony was about to step away, when he caught a peculiar scent and moved closer to investigate.

“What?” Bucky asked sternly, stepping back a little.

Anthony grinned and glanced up at Bucky with a mischievous gleam in his eye, “James has been staying with a human.” Anthony reached inside Bucky's coat and pulled his invitation to the ball out.

“HEY! Give that back!”

Anthony just laughed again and showed the invitation to the wolves behind him. “Look familiar?”

Immediately one of the wolves took on their usual form and growled. “That's my invitation!” Natasha reached out and snatched it out of Anthony's hand. She took a moment to sniff it before turning to Bucky and shooting him a grin that made his blood run cold. “So you're the mystery guest staying with my artist, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky frowned and looked away, trying to seem disinterested. “I'm not his mystery anything... Also, I didn't plan to come to the party anyway.”

“You don't plan on coming!? How irresponsible of you to allow your chosen one come to a party full of vampires alone.”

Bucky swallowed nervously, which caught the other three's attention.

“So,” started one of the wolves. He jumped up and shifted into a short-haired man who was about the same size as Anthony. “The big bad loner finally found his other half?” He snorted and snatched the invitation from Natasha, taking a quick sniff before she took it back. “And you've been sleeping with him!? Seems like you're keeping up the legacy of whores making vampires out of their victims.”

“Shut up! That doesn't mean anything!” Bucky barked, holding his hand out for the invitation. “I want to go home.”

The final wolf assumed his human form and smirked down at Bucky, crossing his arms over his enormous chest and shaking the long blonde hair from his face. “Don't make us laugh. You don't have a home, James. Not since you killed the prostitute who made you one of us--”

“Alright, Alright!” Anthony interrupted and took the invitation back, offering it to Bucky. “Here's what we're going to do. You're either going to convince your chosen one to leave town with you, or you're going to leave by yourself in... Three days. Those are your options James, so consider them carefully.”

Natasha sneered and leaned up, gnashing her fangs at Bucky. “Because if you show up to my party with that little boy on your arm,” she tapped his left arm with one knuckle as she spoke. “Let's just say you'll be leaving with out the arm or the boy.” Bucky was about to counter her threat when Anthony snapped his fingers and gestured for them to leave. “I think he gets the message.” The other three nodded and stalked back into the darkness. Anthony waved at Bucky as he followed the others. “Three days.”

Bucky quietly shut the door behind him, and set the roses in a vase. He didn't turn on any lights for fear it would wake Steven up, and threw himself on the couch to think. He knew for a fact Steven had no intentions of returning to the countryside, and he certainly wasn't going to force Steven to do something he didn't want to do. He considered fleeing the city alone, and figured that would be his best option, but he had no idea what Steven would think about him leaving so soon.

“BUCKY!”

Bucky leaped over the couch and threw Steven's bedroom door open, showing off his fangs and looking around for intruders. Instead he found Steven with the sheets pulled around himself, panting a little. Bucky sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Steven to him. “What's wrong? Did something happen? Are you alright?”

Steven buried his face in Bucky's chest and caught his breath for a moment before answering. “I had a nightmare.”

“A nightmare?” Bucky sighed, somewhat relieved. “Good god, I thought someone was in here with you.”

Steven shook his head. “I dreamed that I was out on the street, waiting for you... And I kept calling, but you weren't there... Then it got dark, and the pack of wolves came out of the shadows and--” his composure broke and he had to take a couple breaths before continuing. “And they chased after me-- And just before they got me, I woke up...”

Bucky kissed the top of Steven's head and stroked his back softly, attempting to calm him down as much as he could while keeping himself calm as well. Just because the other vampires couldn't get in didn't mean they couldn't manipulate someone from outside.

“You're safe. I've got you, Stevie. I'll be right here all night.” Bucky kicked off his shoes and pulled his coat and button down off before sliding under the covers next to Steven. Bucky tried his best to keep from smiling when Steven snuggled into Bucky's chest instead of turning his back to him as he did the night before. Bucky kissed his head again and stroked Steven's hair until he began to fall asleep again.

“Buck?”

“Yes, Stevie?”

“I... I, erm... Yeah.” And with that Steven closed his eyes softly and fell asleep. Bucky rolled his eyes and smiled down at him. He happened to glance down at Steven's neck and stopped short, feeling just how thirsty his latest victim had left him. He bit the inside of his lip as his eyes darkened so he could see every vein coursing through Steven's neck. He managed to turn his head away to shake the feeling off and stand watch over the windows and door until sunrise.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Warning: There will be a fight and there will be crying in this chapter. Proceed with caution my sensitive flowers~)

For the first time in months, Steven didn't wake up as soon as the sun rose. Usually by the time he was home alone for more than eight hours, he was ready to get up and go to the Romanoff manor to find work to do there. However, he hadn't been alone since the night before.   
Steven blinked open his eyes, and found himself snuggled up against Bucky's bare chest. As soon as he realized where he was, he gently untangled himself from Bucky's grasp and grabbed a pillow to hide the blush that crept over his cheeks and down his neck. To his surprise, Bucky hardly stirred at all, much less woke up and make fun of Steven's state of embarrassment.  
After he figured Bucky wasn't going to wake up at all, Steven put the pillow down and took a deep breath. He looked at the sunlight that reflected off the backside of the curtains, and considered getting up to find something to do, but ultimately chose to stay and watch Bucky for a while. There was no way Bucky slept through the night and on into the morning, so it was likely that Bucky had watched Steve sleep. It was only fair that Steven get the same opportunity to watch Bucky sleep, right? Steven shook his head and frowned, a little disappointed in himself for trying to reason a behavior others would deem obsessive. Ever since Bucky showed back up in his life, he had done his best not to look to much, and when he did look, not to stare too long at the vampire. Steven would never admit it, but everything about Bucky interested him, and he honestly wanted to know more about the practical stranger sleeping in his bed.  
Steven brushed a lock of hair from Bucky's face, and smiled when Bucky gave a soft sigh in return. He was stubborn, immature, and relentless in his attempts to persuade Steven into becoming a vampire, but he was also funny, and beautiful, and protective--   
Steve grew wide-eyed when he remembered waking up from his nightmare, and buried his face in his hands from delayed embarrassment. He was in no position to cry for Bucky, as a child would to its mother after a bad dream. The fright was just too much, and it wasn't as if there were thirty other people waiting upon Steven's beck and call just because he had a nightmare... But Bucky came nonetheless. He was quick and observant, and even though there was nothing physical to be afraid of, Bucky still laid down, and held him, and stayed up for god knows how long before falling asleep with his arms around Steven. It was maddeningly sweet of him, and Steven knew he couldn't do anything to return the favor.  
Well, he could but...  
Steven put a hand on his neck and bit his lip. He couldn't. He had worked so hard to become a professional artist in London. He slaved over piece after piece for anyone who was willing to pay him, and even did the work for some that couldn't pay him. He was becoming the artist his mother always told him he could be, and it made his chest burn to think about letting go of his passion, and rejecting the kindness that the Romanoff family had shown him over the last several years. Steven would have to give up practically everything he worked for over the last 17 years of his life, just to live a life of darkness, and death, and blood thirst... But he still looked over at Bucky and considered the possibility. He wanted to know more about Bucky first. He wanted to listen to that irresistibly smooth voice for hours. He wanted to curl up with Bucky and lay on his chest, even though there would be no heartbeat, he still wanted to take comfort in being that close to him again, and stay that close forever.   
Steven's eyes wandered over Bucky, trying to learn everything he could just based on Bucky's appearance.  
The arm was still a mystery, and Steven imagined Bucky would keep it that way as long as he could. When he was near Steven, he would always be on Steven's left, so his arm would be further away, and when he touched Steven, it was never with his left arm if he could help it. Steven noted the scars that surrounded the area where the metal met Bucky's skin, and shuttered at how he might have gotten them. Aside from the scarring, Bucky's skin was smooth and had a delicate pale shade to it. He wasn't snow white, as the people who claimed to see vampires said they were, but he certainly didn't look sun-kissed. He looked like any other Londoner that one would see on the streets, accept for the unmistakable beauty. Steven wondered how Bucky looked this way for the last 60 years of his life and just came across his chosen one in the last 20. It wouldn't make sense for Bucky to have been born with such an age difference to his chosen one, but Steven was still glad he did.  
He liked everything about Bucky, and even though it tasted like vinegar to tell himself that after denying it for the last few days, he knew that he would eventually tell Bucky. Maybe at the ball he would do it--- Steven sighed and rubbed his temples, remembering all that he had to do in preparation for the ball. He had to find a nice outfit, trim his hair, buy flowers for Natasha... Social happenings always felt like a hassle to Steven, but for once he felt like the long list of things he had to do was entirely doable, thanks to Bucky. Steven glanced at Bucky again, and smiled softly. He leaned over the bed and kissed Bucky before he could think twice about it. Again, Bucky didn't move at all, even though Steven thought his heart was beating so loudly the apartment beneath his could hear it. Steven immediately pulled away, smiling and blushing entirely too much for his own good. He managed to pull himself up off the bed and get dressed. He had a long time to himself before Bucky woke up, so he intended to pass the time doing what he did best.

 

Bucky woke with a start and looked around wildly for Steven. His eyes were dark and his teeth scraped uncomfortably against the inside of his mouth. Even after drinking as recently as he had, being so close to Steven all night and into the morning had taken its toll. He could smell Steven on everything, and could taste him every time he opened his mouth to take a dry, steadying breath. Bucky refused to leave the bed until he could get a hold of himself, for fear of tearing after Steven and completely draining him. He curled up around himself and panted into his hands, trying to take in any smells that didn't belong to Steven. He bit into his right arm and held it tight, trying to use his own blood to stop himself.  
He heard Steven come back into the room, but refused to look at him.  
“Bucky? Are you awake?”  
Bucky nodded, but didn't release his arm or say anything. Steven rounded the bed, wiping the wet paint onto his painter's apron and glancing over at Bucky. The instant Steven saw the blood dripping from Bucky's arm, he recoiled and covered his own mouth. “Oh my god--”  
“I need to go hunt...” Bucky turned away from Steven, pulling on his clothes and ignoring the wound. Against Steven's better judgment, he followed Bucky and tried to catch his eye.  
“You're hurt-- We need to get that dressed.”  
“It'll heal on it's own. If I stay here much longer, I'm not going to be able to contain myself.”  
Steven frowned and glanced back into the living room. “But I painted you something, and I wanted to spend more time with you...”  
“Stevie, I'm sorry, but I can't...” Bucky continued looking away from Steven, doing his best to get dressed and get out of the house before he had to explain himself. Steven, however, had other ideas.  
“No,” He took Bucky's hand pleadingly. “Just stay with me tonight--”  
Bucky reversed Steven's grip and threw him onto the bed. Steven tried to scramble off the other side, but Bucky was already straddling him and holding his jaw to one side with his left hand, exposing Steven's neck. Steven stared at Bucky out the corner of his eye and shakily put his hands up to defend himself. Bucky's eyes glowed a hazy midnight blue in the dim bedroom light, and his breath was hot on Steven's hands.  
“I want to stay,” Bucky managed out, not taking his eyes off of Steven's neck. “Dear god, I want to so badly. But I can't--- If I stay, I'm going to kill you. I don't want to do something I'm going to regret. I don't want you to hate me.” His voice wavered as he trailed off. Steven swallowed and hesitantly put one of his hands down to cover the hand on his jaw. With his other hand, he gently brushed the hair out of Bucky's eyes and cupped his cheek.  
“I know you can fight this... If you couldn't control it, I would have been a vampire a long time ago... I know this is hard, and by resisting I'm not making it any easier for you, but I need to know you before I make this decision. I need to know that I'm right when I think about how much I love you. Please just give me a little more time...” Steven's lip quivered, but he pulled it into a smile all the same.  
Bucky stared down at Steven for a long time, panting and searching his eyes. After a while, Bucky's eyes faded back to their usual, brilliant blue and he relaxed his grip on Steven.  
“I'm sorry,” Bucky began as he pulled himself off Steven and sat on the side of the bed. “I'm so sorry that I chose you.”  
“I'm not.” Steve answered so quickly that it surprised the both of them, but he sat on the side on the bed and leaned on Bucky all the same. “Like I said, I know I love you, I just need to know who you are first.”  
Bucky glanced down at him and laughed. “Well aren't you sweet. Where did you steal that from? A French romance novel?”  
“Oh, shut up.” Steve huffed and got off the bed. “Sorry that my first thought wasn't to douse you in garlic and drive a stake through your heart.”  
“What does garlic have to do with anything?”  
“I heard--- Wait, I thought that--” Steven sighed and went out into the living room. He threw himself onto his painter's bench and rubbed his eyes. “I guess we should start there.”  
Bucky followed him out curiously and dropped himself on the couch, playing with his metal fingers. “Start where?”  
“What is actually harmful to vampires. Believe it or not, nobody actually nailed down what is harmful to vampires, and what's not.”  
“Oh, that's easy,” Bucky sat up and propped himself on the couch. “We're basically immortal, so we won't die of old age or hunger--- But if a vampire goes without blood for too long, it'll start losing control over it's judgment and attack the first person it sees.” He gave Steven a pointed look, to which Steven turned his head and pretended he hadn't seen. “The only thing that will kill a vampire instantly is sunlight, but if you want to give them a mark they'll remember, Holy Water scorches and scars skin.”  
Steven nodded and glanced at the scars on Bucky's left shoulder curiously. Bucky looked down at his arm and laughed, “No. Those scars were from getting the arm, not from getting Holy Water poured on me.”  
Steven nodded. “Anything else that can stop a vampire?”  
“Aside from killing it, no. In order to kill a vampire, it either needs to be completely immersed in sunlight, or it needs to be staked through the heart, decapitated, and then burned. If any one of those steps is dismissed, the vampire can come back to life.”  
“So,” Steven shifted a little. “How did you get the arm? The metal one, I mean... What happened?”  
Bucky sighed and combed through his hair with his fingers. “Y'know that long, LONG story I told you?” Steve nodded again. “Well, there's a bit more to the story...”  
Steve watched him curiously.  
“After I was turned into a vampire, I um... I panicked. I was so scared about what happened to me, and what I had to do now that I was a vampire, I attacked the woman who turned me.” Bucky didn't bother looking up at Steven, knowing that he held a horrified expression. “She knew I was going to kill her, so she fought back. She grabbed hold of my arm and started biting and twisting it, doing her best to disarm me. I bit into her neck, hoping to drain her, but her blood tasted like poison, and I didn't get very far. I grasped my mangled arm and fled, but she tackled me through her the door. I kicked her off and used a piece of the shattered door to stake her...” He shook his head and subconsciously held his arm as he spoke. “I cut off her head and burned her in the backyard of her property before fleeing back to London.”  
Steven wasn't sure what to do or what to say, so he sat and quietly played his his hands, giving Bucky an uncomfortable expression. Bucky bit his lip nervously, but continued nonetheless. “When I returned, I sought out a company of vampires who lived here. I found them after a few nights of searching and they took me in. One one the was a pretty savvy engineer in his day, so he helped me with my arm. The damaged limb couldn't be fixed, but upon calling a medical friend of his, they figured out how to replace it, and that's how I got this one.” He looked down at the arm ruefully and peeked over at Steven who looked oddly calm considering everything he had just heard.  
“I'm sorry it was forced upon you.” Steven replied softly.  
“Yeah, well I'm clearly no better.” Bucky sat up and put his head in his hands. “The worst part about all of this is everything I had to give up. I understand you being hesitant about changing. The light of day, the freedom of going outside whenever you'd please, being able to walk into church and not worry that someone's going to come at you with Holy Water and accidentally burn you--- And sunrises. Sunrises and sunsets, are all lost on me...”  
Steven brightened and smiled at him reassuringly. “Well, not quite.” Steven got up and pulled Bucky off the couch by one hand, leading him over to the canvas he had stationed himself for hours. Bucky's mouth ran slack as soon as he realized what the painting was. Steven had recreated the sunrise through the window of his apartment. There were so many colors in the painting that were entirely lost on Bucky, causing him to drop to the bench and stare up at the painting in bewilderment.  
“This is gorgeous.”  
“I thought you might like it,” Steven plopped down next to him, leaning on his arm. “I'm on a bit of an impressionism high right now, but I thought it was accurate all the same.”  
“It looks just as I remembered it.” Bucky smiled and kissed Steve's forehead. “Thank you.”  
“Of course! And with your permission, I'd like to showcase it at the ball the day after next. It'd be a great way to show off my work to potential clients. You'll get to keep it of course! But if it was up at the ball, I'd appreciate it.”  
Bucky's smile dropped immediately. “You still plan to go?”  
Steven laughed and shrugged. “I didn't really plan to in the first place. Natasha demanded that I go, and ultimately it would be a profitable venture.”  
“You shouldn't go,” Bucky blurted out. “It's dangerous. For both of us.”  
Steven looked up at Bucky with a confused expression. “Dangerous how? I'm scared of going places by myself, but as long as you'll be there---”  
“I won't be there.” Bucky replied flatly.  
“Well, why not?”  
“Steven, I can't. Not in the condition I'm in. I could attack somebody.”  
“You attack people anyway!” Steven tried his best to keep from becoming angry, but this was all he had thought about that day. He just wanted to go, and dance with Bucky, and have a good night with him before making his final decision. “What's the real reason you don't want to go?”  
“What's the real reason you WANT to go!?”  
“Because my friend asked me to go, and I'm not going to let her down--- unlike some people, I value my relationships with other people, instead of leaving them to rot.”  
Bucky snarled and stood abruptly, trying to keep from lashing out at him. “I'M not going, but you go ahead and do what you want--- Because that's all this is about right!? What YOU want! Not about the sacrifices others make for you, or the harsh kindnesses that people offer you--”  
“You think this is a harsh kindness!? Blowing me off at the last minute because you're too proud to tell me the real reason you don't want to go with me---” Steven stopped short and choked on the last words. Bucky turned around and ran back to Steven.  
“Hey? Hey!? Is it your lungs? Do you need medicine?”  
Steven pushed away from Bucky and looked up at his with a betrayed expression. “It's me, isn't it?”  
“Oh god, no... No it's no--”  
“You don't want to be seen with me! Not if you don't get what YOU want! Not if you don't get out of it with your chosen one hanging off of you like their pathetic little life depends on it! You just want me to take you no matter what you are, who you are, or what you've done. Well, I'm sorry you're stuck with me too. I'm sorry I'm such a burden that you can't even stand to be next to me in public.”  
Bucky attempted to move closer, but Steven shied away the instant he started moving. “Stevie, I'm sorry..”  
“Just go. Take your goddamned painting, your clothes, and ALL of your vampire drama and get out! Go back to the woods where animals like you belong!”  
Bucky and Steven both froze after he finished, taking in what the other had said. Bucky opened his mouth to apologize, beg to stay, plead for a second chance, but nothing came out. He solemnly went back into the bedroom, dressed himself fully, pulled on his coat, and headed for the door.  
“Stevie, I do love you... And I'm sorry.”  
Steven wanted to drop to his knees, and apologize over and over until Bucky took pity on him and pulled him back onto his feet, and kissed him, and told him everything would be okay. He couldn't bring himself to play Bucky's weak, helpless chosen one anymore.  
“Yeah. Me too.” Steven responded coldly with his back to Bucky, not even wanting to humor him with a last look. Bucky slipped out, abandoning the painting altogether and quietly shutting the door behind him.  
As soon as the door clicked shut, Steven dropped himself onto the couch and hopelessly fought the tears that were already rolling down his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Chapter 6 will be up by tomorrow afternoon (my time)! :D)


	6. Chapter 6

Steven spent as much time at the Romanoff's manor as he could over the two days that preceded the ball. He refused to sit down for for than five minutes at a time, and when he did sit down, Natasha couldn't get him to pay any attention to her. He offered any help he could give in making arrangements for the ball, and did his best with the few tasks that the servants would pass to him.  
“I can't help feeling like you're avoiding something.” Natasha said as she ducked under a bust that two movers were taking from the ballroom, trying her best to keep up with Steven.  
“Hm?” He turned only slightly in her direction to show that he was paying attention.  
“Oh, honestly,” She picked up her skirt and ran ahead of Steven, grabbing the rolled up rug from his arms and pouting. “I have no idea what's gotten into about this whole thing, but you've been very tense these last couple of days.”  
Steve sighed and opened the door to the game room, flopping down in one of the card table chairs. “Bucky and I had a fight...”  
“Oh, how dreadful!” Natasha threw the rug down and slammed the door, hurrying to the other chair. “Please, tell me all about it! Was it about the ball? Did he not want to come!?”  
Steven sighed. “Yeah. He said it wasn't his style... I'm pretty sure he meant that he didn't want to be seen with me. Which is fine. I'm sure if you saw him, you'd understand the vanity of it.”  
“I don't care WHAT he looks like! That was awful of him... I should go over there and drag him out myself!”  
“It wouldn't do any good,” Steven said, trying to keep his voice from breaking. “He left the other night, and I don't think he plans to return.”  
Natasha was quiet for a while, allowing the conversation to have a respectful moment of silence before moving on. “But--- YOU'RE still coming, right?”  
“Of course! I already said I would, and I am your painter after all.” Steven feigned a smile.  
“PERFECT! Oh, I was hoping you'd say that! Otherwise I would have looked like a fool calling my tailors in to make you an outfit.”  
Steven blushed and looked up at her. “You're kidding...”  
“Nope! I knew you'd be looking for some sharper clothes to wear, and naturally I wasn't going to make you pay! No, no, no. Besides, this outfit is designed for members of the upper class, and you are part of the upper class, Michelangelo.” She teased and ran a hand through his hair. Frowning, she ruffled it again and sighed. “I'll be getting a barber in to fix that mess too.”  
“That's not necessary, Natasha... I don't know what to say—”  
“Just say thank you!” She scooted closer and took his hands. “You're my friend, and I just want what's best for you. Now, about tonight---”  
Steven knew it was bad to keep thinking about Bucky, but what else could he do? It had been so long since he got as close to someone as he had with Bucky. Both times he let Bucky in, and both times he was let down. All Steven could do now was pray that someone would even be willing to talk to him at the ball that night. He hadn't planned to be completely alone, so he didn't really have a back up plan on what to do socially. He wished he could go back on showing up, but at this point, that was no longer an option. Tonight, he was going to make the most of being out in public after just losing the only company aside from Natasha's family he had earned in the last 17 years.

 

Steven beamed at his reflection in the dressing room mirror. As much as he didn't take to the idea of Natasha having an outfit made for him at first, he certainly didn't regret his decision now. The over coat and pants were perfectly tailored and dyed a soft, navy blue that looked nearly black in most lighting. It made all of the trimmings of the suit look ten times brighter. The golden shoulder loops and their tassels, all of the golden outer seams, buttons, and liners, and the bright red cravat that poked out over top the spotless white vest and undershirt. His belt even had a strap on which he could attach a sword's sheath, but he humbly requested not to be given one. He looked himself over and over in the mirror, smiling a little brighter the more he looked.  
“OH YOU LOOK DARLING!” Natasha said as she crashed through the door, trying her best to get her large gown through the doorway. “I told you they'd do a good job. They even trimmed your hair up nice.” She ran a hand through his hair once before brushing it back into the orderly curve it managed to keep on it's own at the length he had it clipped to.  
“This is a beautiful outfit. Thank you, Natasha.”  
“Of course, dear--- Oh! I almost forgot!” She smoothed out the skirt of her dress before going over to the dresser's table and picking up a sash and a small wooden box. “I have a few decorations too. Just so your chest isn't bare compared to the other men tonight.” She threw the sky blue sash over one of his shoulders, humming to herself as she adjusted it around his shoulder loop. The she opened the box and showed off the three medals inside.  
“Medals?” Steven asked, looking up at he curiously.  
“Nothing fancy. A golden one with my family's seal, the silver medal of service to our family, and a crimson star for your role in providing the upper class with your service.” She quickly pinned them all on and smiled at the handiwork. “My goodness. Just look at you! Everyone is going to be completely fawning over you tonight!” She hugged his sides and smiled at him in the reflection of the mirror.  
“Everyone except Bucky...” Steven realized he had said it only after the fact and clapped a hand over his mouth, not entirely sure on how to double back from the statement. Natasha, thankfully, just rolled her eyes and continued telling him how dashing he was and how foolish anyone would be to pass up talking with him that night.  
“Oh my! We need to go greet the guests-- Or rather, I do... But you need to come! The ballroom is finished and you have just got to see it!” Natasha turned completely around and started for the door, dragging Steven behind her.

 

Natasha hadn't lied... About anything, really. The ballroom was gorgeous. The chandeliers and lamps were all aglow, the dark wine colored curtains covering the grand windows were pulled back, and the moon was in plain view over the glittering ballroom. Everything was brightly colored, including the guests themselves, who began giggling, dancing, and talking with each other as soon as they were through the door. Women in gorgeous dresses that were adorned with sashes and flowers, men in sharp black suits with medals and white gloves. Steven set himself high on the staircase that stood to the right of the windows. He stayed close by Natasha, who was there greeting guests as they flocked in and gazed up in wonder at the shining ballroom. Most of them simply bowed their heads or shook hands with Steven, but once or twice he would receive a giggly comment from a girl who thought he looked like a toy soldier, or a comment about how well dressed he was from the men. As much as the comments were kindhearted, Steve would have preferred if someone expressed interest in dancing with him, or if he could spy someone sitting alone that he could request a dance with.  
“Aren't you having fun, Stevie?” Natasha asked every so often. He would nod and give her an enthusiastic smile, but it always faded as soon as his gaze returned to the couples dancing on the grand mosaic floor. He couldn't help but comb the crowd of dancers, hoping that perhaps he'd see a tall, unnaturally beautiful man, hovering above the rest of them.  
“And who's this?” The guest beside Natasha asked, drawing Steven's attention back to the greeting line. The gentleman who asked was only a bit taller than Steven himself, but he was a handsome looking man with a clean trimmed beard and a wickedly charming smile. Natasha beckoned Steven closer and presented him dramatically. “THIS. Is my family's painter, Steven Rogers.”  
Steven blushed and turned away a little, trying not to show that he wasn't used to attention. The man reached out and took Steven's hand, kissing it softly and smiling up at him with a gleam in his deep brown eyes. The man took a quick glance down at Steven's medals before straightening up and clearing his throat.  
“Forgive my rudeness. I'm Anthony Stark.”  
“It's a pleasure, Mr. Stark.” Steven bowed with a thankful smile on his lips.  
“Natasha, my dear. Would you be so kind as to relieve this poor boy of the greeting line duties? I should very much like to dance with him.”  
Steven gave Natasha a shocked expression, to which she just winked back. “Have fun, Stevie.”  
Anthony took Steven's arm and started down the stairs, before calling back, “Oh! And does James plan on attending this evening?”  
“It appears not. Last I heard he was running home.”  
Anthony turned around and laughed to himself. “Delicious.”  
“What is?” Steven asked curiously.  
“Ah, nothing. Just an inside joke the lady Natasha and I have.” Anthony spun Steven off his arm and pulled him in close, ducking through the thick crowd of dancers and heading slowly for the center. “Tell me a bit about yourself, Mr. Rogers.”  
“Oh, Steven... Just Steven is alright with me, sir.” Steven blushed down at his shoes, almost missing a dance step.  
“Alright. Steven then. Tell me about yourself.” Anthony gripped Steven around his waist once they were in the midst of the crowd where no one could see. Steven blushed harder and swallowed around the lump in his throat.  
“I, um... As Natasha told you, I'm a painter... I came to London in hopes of becoming a more professional grade artist. And with her help, I've been making it happen.”  
“What kind of work do you do?” Anthony asked, moving closer and closer as they hit the middle of the crowd.  
“Oh, all sorts. Most days I do portraits and still life renditions of rooms, but the other day I did an impressionist piece and I---” Steven stopped short, feeling his heart sink into his stomach.  
“You...?” Anthony, leaned down, trying to catch his eye.  
“Oh--” Steven stood straight up again. “Forgive me. I meant to say that I thought I did rather well with it.”  
“That's good.” Anthony agreed. He spun Steven around again before pulling him tight against his own body. Steven shifted a little, doing his best to dance at such a close range to his partner.  
“Uh, Anthony...?”  
Anthony blinked down at Steven and smiled, “I bet the view from the window's balcony is spectacular. Would you like to go see?”  
Steven frowned, unsure as to why the topic changed so quickly, but he wasn't about to complain to the only person who offered him a dance. “Okay. Sure.”  
Anthony immediately led them out of the crowd as the song finished, and headed straight for the glass doors to the balcony. Steven stepped out after him and took a deep breath of the fresh, night air. He leaned over the edge of the balcony and watched the twinkling lights of the city, relieved by a break of silence.  
“Nice view, isn't it?” Anthony started softly, leaning over the balcony next to Steven.  
“It's beautiful. Like something I would paint.”  
“I could say the same about you...” Anthony said as he slipped his hand over Steven's as it rested on the stone railing of the balcony. Steven's eyes grew wide and he felt the blood start pounding furiously in his ears.  
“Uh-Umm...” Steven fumbled. He was hoping for some attention, but certainly not of this caliber. He tried to pull his hand away, but Anthony turned him around sharply so that Steven faced him and was trapped between him and the railing.  
“Anthony, I'm not---” Steven attempted to reason his way out of Anthony's grip, but Anthony pulled him into a kiss and threw him off entirely. Steven whimpered and pulled away, pushing out of Anthony's grip and backing cautiously towards the doors back inside. “I think you've made a mistake about what kind of a man I am.” Steven wiped his mouth and turned for the door, but a strong hand gripped his wrist and pulled him back towards the dark. When Steven looked back up at Anthony, the color had drained from his eyes, and no matter how hard he tried, Steven couldn't look away.  
“I think YOU'VE made a mistake,” Anthony said in a low, gruff voice. “And it's about to be the last one you'll ever make.” Anthony pulled Steven out of the view of the windows and wrapped his arms around Steven's waist tightly. Steven tried to struggle as much as he could, but his body was paralyzed. Eyes wide and staring blankly ahead with his body limp in Anthony's arms. He realized entirely too late that Anthony was a vampire, and now he was going to pay for it. He tried to scream with every bit of energy he had, but no sound came out.  
Anthony gripped Steven's hair and pulled it back to fully expose his neck as he licked his fangs. Steven pleaded silently, begging for his life that someone could see him through the windows. If he had the ability, he would be sobbing helplessly. Anthony licked his mark across Steven's neck and fully exposed his fangs---  
Everything went black. In an instant, a hand covered Steven's eyes and pulled him out of Anthony's grip, while the second hand held Steven up so he wouldn't drop.  
“Steven?”  
All at once the feeling in Steven's body returned and he held onto the arms around him gratefully. “Bucky--” Steven whispered as tears silently ran down his cheeks.  
“I'm right here, Stevie.”  
“James. I thought you were heading out of town.” Anthony spat, clearly displeased that his meal had been stolen away.  
“Plans change, Anthony. And I owe Steven, here, an apology dance.” Bucky picked Steven up and raced back into the ballroom before Anthony could make another move. He lifted his hand from Steven's eyes and turned Steven to face him. He was about to thank Bucky and apologize to him over and over, but was caught completely off guard by Bucky's attire.  
He wore a sleek, black suit with sleeves that had a slight overhang on the top of each hand. The suit's front wrapped over itself and had six buttons fastening it on his left side. The only place his undershirt stuck out was at the top, where the collar flapped over just behind the snow white, ruffled cravat that hung dramatically with a large, golden pin that made a delicate circle around a diamond cut Aquamarine gem that matched his eyes perfectly. All of this shined even brighter under the hem of his double tiered cape that was apple red on the inside, but soft black on the outside. The shoulder and collar edges of the cape were sharp enough to kill, but Bucky had pulled all of his hair back into a black, satin ribbon, so that the soft contours of his face evened the entire ensemble out.  
Steven shamelessly looked Bucky up and down, attempting to say absolutely everything that was on his mind at the time, but he settled for, “I'm assuming you weren't worried people would expect you to be a vampire...”  
Bucky laughed and took Steven's hand, leading him gently to the crowd of dancers. “Please. They won't notice me, because they'll be far too busy looking at you.” Bucky tried to hide his fangs as he smirked down at Steven's outfit.  
Steven blushed and looked away, taking Bucky's shoulder to dance. “It's nothing... Natasha had it made for me.”  
“Oh, she did?” Bucky took Steven's hand and looked up to the stairs, giving Natasha a challenging wink.  
“She also introduced me to that vampire... Anthony.”  
“That's no surprise. They're from the same group of vampires.” Bucky said calmly as he spun Steven through the crowd, ignoring the looks he got from every woman and a few of the men that they passed.  
Steven looked up at him sharply. “Natasha's a--”  
“Last in the line of Romanoffs. Yes. She had a little rebellious spat with her family that she managed to get a bite out of... And Anthony was the right hand man of the infamous count himself before his demise sent Anthony wandering through Europe until he made it here.” Bucky's eyes roamed over the guests of the ballroom as they danced. “Near the door to the foyer is the brainless blonde beast that is Thor. He became a vampire against his will, like me, but has been making non-consensual bastard vampires for himself ever since... Aaaaaaaand on the second story just above us is a short brunette trying to chat up that black-haired looker. The short gent is Clinton Barton, the famous marksman gone rogue in the last century because he found out he can kill with a bow, and that pays way better than any side show.”  
“We're surrounded...” Steven whispered hopelessly into Bucky's shoulder. “We'll never get out of this alive.”  
“Relax. You leave that kind of thinking to me, Stevie.”  
“Buck? I'm sorry for--”  
Bucky leaned down and kissed Steven gently, sending goosebumps pulsing up Steven's spine. “We'll get to that later on too. First we have to find a way out.”  
Steven pressed himself closer to Bucky, looking all around the room. “I know a place! We'll have to be quick about it though.”  
“Where at!?”  
“To the side of the grand staircase, there's a servant's passage that leads to the kitchen and out onto the 17th bridge. If we could create a distraction, everyone will be in enough of an uproar that we can get out without being noticed.”  
Bucky looked around and nodded in agreement. “Good plan,” Bucky lifted his eyes nonchalantly to check watch what the archer was doing. “He's gonna be hard to avoid... And the wolf.”  
“Wolf?”  
“This company of vampires also has a mascot who likes to show his true colors on full moons. I don't think he can come out tonight, but we'd better keep an eye out for him.” Bucky watched Clinton's conversation, doing his best to gauge the tone. By the body language of the black-haired man standing next to him, things weren't going according to plan. “Steady. I'm about to create a distraction. When I do, just stay still. I'll tell you when to run for the door.”  
Steven nodded and looked over at Natasha. Her arms were crossed and her mouth was twisted in a violent scowl. She was no doubt looking at him and Bucky, so he quickly looked away. “Natasha's watching us...”  
“She won't be for much longer.” Bucky watched as Clinton attempted to flirt more with the stranger before he was promptly slapped across the face before being pulled into a deep, dramatic kiss that was straight out of a romance novel.  
“Thank god for the French.” Bucky smirked and snapped his fingers and set one of the grand curtains on fire.  
“Bucky---”  
“Not yet...” Bucky continued spinning and dipping Steven as if nothing were wrong before he heard a woman shriek and people start running in the opposite direction of the fire.  
“Buck---”  
“Hang in there...” Bucky's eyes flickered from vampire to vampire, watching for them to move. Natasha bolted for the fire, as well as Thor with a large bucket of water. “Now.”  
Bucky pulled Steven up and started in a straight sprint for the servant's passage. Steven followed after him as quickly as he could while watching out for the other vampires. Anthony leaped through the crowd and tackled Bucky to the ground as the guests ran like mad for the door. Anthony hissed and choked Bucky, attempting to throw him off long enough for another vampire to notice. Steven grew wide-eyed when he saw Clinton pull the bow that was hanging off his shoulder and take up an arrow. He ran at Anthony and pushed him off of Bucky.  
“THE MARKSMAN!” Steven shouted. Bucky kicked Anthony in the jaw and scooped Steven up with his right arm before holding his left up to catch the arrow. He threw the arrow down and pulled the servant's passage open and closing it quickly behind them.  
“Go left at the bottom of the stairs!” Steven cried out, trying to turn around so he could see the direction they're taking. Bucky ducked left then headed into the pitch black kitchen.  
“Now what?”  
“Last door next to the stove--” Steven heard the passage door open and slam loudly. “Bucky, Hurry!!!”  
Bucky put left shoulder forward and busted entirely through the door before sprinting over the bridge and out of sight into the streets of London. Bucky listened for anyone who could be following them back. Steven's apartment was simultaneously the most safe and least safe place he could take them to, but if he had any chance of protecting Steven all through the night, it would be someplace that the other vampires would need invited into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Alright, clearly this was a longer chapter compared to the others, so it'll be a couple days before the next one comes out. ^^" Thank you for your patience, and I will have it done soon! Thank you for reading all! :D)
> 
> UPDATE: I am still alive, and I still plan on continuing this story. I am working on 7 I just hit some major writer's block. I hope you all understand, and I thank you all for being patient. :DDD

**Author's Note:**

> ((5/30/2016: Thought I was dead didn't you? Surprise~ Figured I would announce my plan to restart this fic... Starting from ground zero. Enjoy the current work, as I intend to leave it as it is, but I will link my second Crimson Stars to this one when I start publishing the new versions chapters. I don't intend to make excuses, but thank you all who have been enjoying this piece in my absence, and those who still have it bookmarked. <3))


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